Proud, sinful man! thyself above all fear
Of him who made the earth, come, stand but here,
And here be taught his majesty and might.
This stream from western lakes how broad and bright?
But now its waves in froth and rage appear,
And as they plunge down deep, their voice we hear,
Like thunders bursting from the clouds of night.
This river from his hand doth God outpour:
Then say, O sinner! hast thou naught to dread
From Majesty Divine, whom thou each hour